Liquid Chocolate
by Flaming Trails
Summary: Well, we all know how Doc felt when he saw his true love for the first time. But how did his true loves feel about him? Multiverse: Canon Clara, VDC Mystie, WoDWoL Josie, NonTrilogy Gypsy
1. Chapter 1

Liquid Chocolate

By Flaming Trails

A Back To The Future Mini-Series

Disclaimer: I don't own Back To The Future. However, three of the girls featured here? They're mine. No touchies.

Chapter 1

_Clara Clayton_

Friday, September 4th, 1885

Hill Valley

10:04 A.M.

_I made it!_

Clara Clayton looked around the busy train station platform, smiling brightly. It felt good to finally be here in Hill Valley. Ever since she had made up her mind to go out West and become a schoolteacher, things had just kept going wrong. It was like the universe had been conspiring against her, trying to keep her stuck in Rogoville, New Jersey.

First, right before she was to leave for her first position in Anderson, Oregon, her grandfather had died. Andrew Clayton had been a proud but caring man, and had been one of the few people in her family to encourage Clara to follow her dreams. Clara had loved him very much, and had been devastated by his death. So it was only natural that she had canceled her trip and stayed to attend his funeral.

Unfortunately, her parents had seen her delay as encouragement. Clara and her parents had very different views on what was a woman's proper place in life. While Clara wanted to get out and see the world a bit before settling down, her parents thought that the only proper thing for a young lady to do was get married right away and start raising children. They had been extremely upset to find their daughter at 30 and still unwed. So while Clara was mourning her grandfather and trying to secure a new position, her parents had taken the opportunity to force yet another suitor on her.

Clara shuddered as she remembered the man. Basil Barkis had been one of the worst of the lot. He was slimy, greedy, and regarded her as nothing more than an heir-producing machine. All of his conversations with her had been pure torture, with him addressing her like she was a pet rather than a person. After three dinners together, it had gotten to be too much. Clara had snapped, thrown Barkis out of the house, and told her parents in no uncertain terms that she was going to go teach school and to not bother with any more suitors. They had reacted by promptly disowning her and kicking her out of the house, telling her not to come back without a proper husband. This had delayed her move even more, as she had been forced to find a job and a place in town -- not an easy feat in a place as small as Rogoville -- before managing to apply for the position in Hill Valley.

But still! She had overcome it all, and now, here she was, ready to begin her new life in the West. _I can't wait to meet my escort. Hill Valley sounded like such a wonderful little town._

As the minutes ticked by, though, and people began leaving the station, no one appeared to fetch her. Clara looked around again, puzzled. Had they sent an escort at all? It seemed rather rude to just leave a lady standing at the station. Besides, how was she to find her way to the schoolhouse without someone to help her? _I'd think, even out here in the West, they'd keep up with proper etiquette. It doesn't seem right that they wouldn't send someone out to help me._

She straightened her back. _Well then -- if no one's going to help me, then I guess I'll just have to help myself. It's not like I'm a helpless woman, like so many men have thought. I may be a city girl, but that doesn't mean that I can't ride a horse or take care of myself. I can prove to everyone here that I'm a real frontier girl._ She gathered her luggage and went up to the ticket counter. "Excuse me, sir," she asked politely, "but where's the nearest place where I can rent a horse and carriage?"

"Statler's Ranch is right over there, ma'am," the ticket man smiled, pointing.

"Oh, yes, I see. Thank you." Clara walked over and was promptly met by a rather plump, grinning man in a green waistcoat. "Well, hello there ma'am! New to town, I see. What can I do you for?"

"I'm looking for a horse and a carriage," Clara said, grinning back. "I'm the new schoolteacher. . . ."

Friday, September 4th

10:29 A.M.

_What on earth possessed me to do this!_

Clara Clayton tried desperately to rein in her horses. They were having none of it, too crazed with fear to pay heed to her pulling. Her carriage bumped over the rocky terrain, frequently knocking her hat into her eyes. _Why did I think I could do this on my own? Why?_

Because she was too stubborn for her own good sometimes, that was why. Once she made up her mind about something -- whether it be that she was going to have a certain kind of tea for lunch, or that she was going to move across the country to be a teacher -- she was determined to do it, come hell or high water. And she had really thought that the best thing to do was to try and "prove" herself to the townsfolk who hadn't bothered to send an escort. Now, she realized, what she _should_ have done was gone to someone and asked _them_ to escort her to her cabin. That way, she would have had some company, perhaps some pleasant conversation --

And she would have avoided that damned snake who had scared her horses like this.

Her hat fell into her eyes again. "Damn," Clara swore quietly. Though she normally frowned on foul language, she recognized that there was occasionally a time and place for it -- like right then and there. What could she do? The horses weren't going to respond to her commands, that was clear. And she certainly couldn't abandon the carriage without possible injury to herself. Wasn't there anyone out here -- anyone that could see and help her?

_I have to find out,_ she thought as the horses took another turn._ Otherwise I'm going to continue like this until we either go over a cliff or the horses finally exhaust themselves. _She filled up her lungs and started screaming as loud as she could. "Help! Help me! Help!"

To her surprise and relief, she was rewarded with the sound of hoof beats coming her way, and fast. _Thank God,_ she thought, trying to push her hat back up so she could see her rescuer. Unfortunately, the bumpy terrain made this nearly impossible, so she contented herself with listening for him and trying again to slow the horses.

The hoof beats drew closer. She could just make out underneath her hat brim the shape of a rather tall man barreling toward her, his arm outstretched. "Here! Here!" he called, trying to catch her.

Unfortunately, the chase seemed to upset her horses all the more, and they sped up. "Hurry!" Clara called, trying to work up the courage to let go of the reins and reach back to the man. She _knew_ she had to get off the carriage, but holding onto the reins made her feel just a bit safer. _Come on, Clara, let go, let go!_

"Jump!" the man suddenly yelled.

Jump? Clara didn't know if she could for a second. Then she realized it might be her only option. Steeling herself, she released the reins and leapt.

A strong arm caught her and pulled her onto his horse. Seconds later, Clara heard a snap, then a crash. She peeked out from under her hat brim -- and was horrified to see the wagon, having dumped part of its load, plunge over the edge of a huge ravine. _Oh my -- If -- if this man hadn't been here -- I would -- I would have died. Oh, thank God he was._

Not knowing she had just set the space-time continuum all a-flutter, she turned to her savior. "Oh, thank you sir," she began gratefully, pulling up her hat. "You saved my--"

Her heart stopped beating. Holding her on his horse was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was an older man, with fluffy white hair, but with a young, kind face. His features were perfect -- a nice nose, a strong chin, a beautiful suntan --

And his eyes. Those big, liquid chocolate brown eyes. Clara felt herself getting lost in them. "Life," she managed to finish breathlessly, feeling a swell of utter adoration for this handsome stranger.

With a happy jolt, she realized he was looking at her in the same way. He doffed his hat. "Emmett Brown at your service, miss."

Emmett. What a wonderful name. Emmett Brown. Now what was her name again? "I'm -- I'm--" her hat fell over her eyes again, sparking her memory. "Clayton!" She pushed it back and added more calmly, "Clara Clayton."

"Clara." Emmett Brown suddenly smiled at her. "What a beautiful name."

And in that instant, Clara knew she wanted that smile to light up the rest of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Mysteria Jones_

Thursday, Halloween, 1985

Hill Valley

6:45 P.M.

_Ahh, I love Halloween_.

Mysteria Lilith Jones hummed to herself as she headed up the driveway to the Smith's house. Halloween was the one time of the year that she could be herself without any fear. She hated having to hide her true nature all the time. She understood it was for a good reason -- she'd had her share of run-ins with lunatics who knew vampires existed and were certain that they were all blots of pure evil on the earth. But it could get a little wearing at times, trying to bluff her way through questions like, "Why do you sleep all day?" and "What do you mean, you don't eat solid food?" On Halloween, she could show her true colors, and no one would even give her a second glance. Feeling quite good, she adjusted her costume -- it had gotten twisted in the car -- and rang the doorbell.

Her host, dressed as Frankenstein's Monster, greeted her with a smile. "Welcome, Mystie! It's good to see you! Come in and make merry!"

"Thanks," Mysteria returned. "It was really nice of you to invite me. I didn't realize my coworkers noticed me that much, considering I'm always on night shift. How are you guys doing?"

"Great, just great. Hey, just so you know, we're going to have a local celebrity coming over soon, if you're interested. It's George McFly, the sci-fi author."

"Cool, I'll have to see if I can get to talk to him." Pleasantries exchanged, Mystie drifted into the crowd of people.

A short time later, Mysteria found herself talking to another party goer about how she had made her costume and forcing down some punch. Just as she explained about her "custom-fit teeth," she felt eyes upon her. _Probably some teenage boy with his tongue lolling out,_ Mystie though, annoyed. _I probably should have made this thing less revealing._

The eyes went off her as she heard a stern voice ask someone if the punch wasn't to his liking. Wondering what her possible stalker looked like, she took a glance over.

Her heart suddenly skipped a beat. Standing by the punch bowl was a surprisingly handsome man. His white hair indicated that he was on the older side, but he had a good profile, and a life glow that was strong enough for someone half his age. _Actually, perhaps I should have made it _more_ revealing. Hello, good-looking!_

The man glanced over at her again. Mystie tried to smile at him, but he seemed intimidated by the fact that she had noticed him and quickly redirected his gaze. Mystie frowned. _Aw, he's shy. Well then, I guess it's up to me to make the first move._ She prepared to walk over and say hello.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm. "Oh, baby, you look gooood tonight."

Startled, Mysteria snatched her arm back and spun around to see a 40-something man with bleached blond hair leering at her. Judging from what she could smell, he had more alcohol than blood in his veins at this point. A brief mind scan revealed some rather disgusting thoughts about most of the female guests. "Do I know you?" Mysteria said in her frostiest voice.

The man grinned. "The name'sh Biff Tannen," he said, leaning far too close for comfort. "And who are you, beautiful?"

"Mysteria Jones, and that's all you're getting," Mysteria said coldly, walking past him. Getting the attention of the sexy stranger would have to wait -- first she needed to lose this jerk.

Thursday, Halloween

8:19 P.M.

_Arrrgh! What did I do to deserve this, God?_

Mysteria couldn't believe that she _still_ hadn't managed to shake this asshole! Every time she thought she had finally lost him in the crowd, he popped back up! What was worse, he kept getting drunker and bolder. No longer content with merely leering and trying to sweet-talk her, he had moved on to trying to cop a feel. Mysteria's vampire reflexes weren't about to let that happen, though. "Listen, Tannen, this is getting very tiring! Leave me the hell alone!" she snapped, looking around for another escape route.

"Don't be like that, baby," Biff slurred, once again reaching for her breast. Mysteria batted his hand away. "You know you want a man like me. You know you want me to give it to you."

"I'm not that kind of girl -- and don't give me that line that you could make me into one," she snapped, quickly reading Biff's mind. "Now leave me alone or I'll be forced to do something drastic. Preferably to the area between your legs." Giving him her best death glare, she turned and stalked off toward the punch bowl, leaving Biff to sulk and nurse his drink.

Suddenly, a voice caught her attention. "Damn! Damn damn! I've missed her again!"

Mysteria's eyes lit up. _It's him!_ She turned to see him standing with two teenagers -- one, a boy, dressed as Renfield, and the other, a girl, as a stereotypical 50s rocker -- and frowning at Biff. Mysteria giggled as she noticed her mystery man was dressed up as Dracula. _Oh, figures I'd attract someone like that. . . ._

The girl spotted her standing there. She poked the mystery man in the ribs. "Not really," she informed him. "She just went over by the punch." She waved at Mysteria to show where.

The man turned to face her again. Mysteria studied his face for a moment. Some people might not have thought about him as handsome, but she liked what she saw. A nice strong chin, a straight nose --

And those eyes! Those big, gorgeous eyes, the color of liquid chocolate. She couldn't help but be captivated by them. _I wonder if this is how my victims feel when I'm hypnotizing them. . . ._

Unfortunately, she didn't get a chance to be captivated for long. The man quickly averted his gaze, blushing. Mysteria pouted. _Come on, sweetie, I don't bite. Much._

The boy gave the man a push. "Stop acting like my teenage father, Doc."

Mysteria blinked a few times. What was _that_ supposed to mean? She decided not to dwell on it -- it seemed the sort of phrase that would give you a headache if you thought about it for too long. Besides, the man -- Doc -- was looking at her again. She smiled at him, thinking, _Come over here, you silly boy._

She realized an instant too late that she must have exerted a slight hypnotic pull on him, as he began walking toward her. _Oops! Well, it's getting him over here, at least. Finally. . . ._

He finally reached her, trying to pretend like he was just refilling his glass. Mysteria stifled a giggle. "Have you been watching me all night?" she purred, leaning toward him.

"Well, yes," Doc admitted, giving her a nervous smile. "I was just curious, as I've never seen you around Hill Valley. May I ask your name?"

Mysteria extended her hand. "Mysteria Jones. I'm a night janitor at the courthouse. Who are you, stranger?"

Doc wiped his hand off before shaking hers. _Don't want to present her with a sweaty palm,_ she heard him think. _Though, honestly, once she learns my name, I'm not going to have a chance._ "Dr. Emmett L. Brown," he introduced himself. His smile lessened. "I trust you've heard about me and my reputation."

Mysteria had indeed. Dr. Emmett Brown was a popular subject around the courthouse, due to his past exploits with the Clock Tower. Most of her coworkers seemed to consider him a dangerous lunatic, trading stories of his odd behavior. Mysteria had found their gossip about him sickening. He didn't sound all that dangerous to _her_ -- especially not compared to some of the people Mysteria had met in her 322 years. He had sounded intelligent, interesting. Someone that she would really like to get to know better. Especially now that she had seen what he looked like. _Hmmm. Mysteria Lilith Brown._

_I like it._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Josephine Grey_

Sunday, November 17th, 1985

Hill Valley

4:58 P.M.

"I'm telling you, Dr. Long, this is a mistake! You're putting her with the worst of the patients here! He's a paranoid schizophrenic with tendencies toward pyromania -- he'll hurt her! He needs to be in total isolation!"

_Oh brother,_ Josephine Grey thought, rolling her eyes under her closed eyelids. Here she was, trying to enjoy a nice sleep before being put in with a new crazy person, and she had to listen to this woman rant and rave. She couldn't even manage to tune her out completely -- her shrill voice got through the mental shields. _Please shut up, Miss Adams or whatever your name is. I want to delay meeting this new nutcase for as long as possible._

"Dr. Adams, we have no other choice. All the other cells are full up, and his is the only one that's big enough to fit a second cot."

Josie somehow suppressed a start. That was something she had managed to miss from Dr. Adams's rant. _I'm being roomed with a guy? Isn't there some sort of law against that? It certainly sounds like trouble waiting to happen, at any rate._ She shuddered internally._ Let's hope my reflexes are still as good as ever._

"You said yourself that he's always drugged and restrained to prevent any violent outbursts," Dr. Long continued. "Considering that Josephine here is generally in a catatonic state, I think they'll get along for the time being. Later we can set up a screen or something similar."

Josie heard a door unlock. "You're making a mistake," Dr. Adams warned.

"We have_ no choice_. All our other options have been exhausted. Move his bed."

"What's going on?" a man's voice asked, obviously confused.

"We recently received a new inmate from another asylum. Since all the other cells are full, you're getting a roommate."

There was a snort of disgust from the man. Josie supposed she couldn't blame him -- after all, she wasn't too thrilled about her new living arrangements either. She heard the attendants start moving the furniture around -- then the attendant carrying her moved forward. _Well, this is it. Hopefully my new neighbor won't be too much of a problem -- that Dr. Adams woman seems prone to theatrics. Almost makes me wish I was back in Arthur's Clinic. At least there I had my own room, and the doctors were reasonably normal._

The attendant laid her down on a cot. Josie happily turned over and made herself comfortable. She heard the attendants fuss over her roommate's strait-jacket for a moment, then they finally left. _Maybe now I can finally get some real sleep. . . ._

A silent few minutes passed. Her roommate made no effort to talk to her, which puzzled Josie. Wasn't he interested in her at all? Curious as to what the man looked like, she rolled back over and opened her eyes.

She nearly stopped breathing. Lying on the bed nearby was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. He had long, fluffy white hair that made her want to run her fingers through it. His face was nicely shaped -- on the thin side, with a strong chin. A scar running down his cheek made him look a little dangerous. Suddenly, Josephine was _very _interested in her new roommate. "Hello," she said, grinning.

The man turned to look at her, surprise written on his features. Josie felt her heart melt as she looked at his eyes. He had the most beautiful liquid chocolate brown eyes she had ever seen. They looked tired though -- tired and unhappy. She could sense that he had a lot of pain bottled up inside of him -- pain that he was desperately trying to keep hidden. _You poor, poor man,_ she thought. _I bet those eyes were so warm and expressive before. . . ._

To her joy, the man seemed to like what he saw in her. She exerted just a bit of hypnotic influence on him, just to make sure that he didn't try to shut her out immediately. She wanted to learn more about him first. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Josephine, Josephine Grey," Josie said in greeting. "What's your name?"

For a moment, the man seemed to hesitate, as if fighting her influence. Then he said, "Emmett. Dr. Emmett L. Brown."

Josie smiled. "Hello, Emmett. I didn't realize that this hospital allowed patients to room together -- especially men and women."

"They usually don't," Emmett admitted. "But they had no choice in this case. So I guess we're stuck together." He cocked his head, studying her. "I thought you were catatonic?"

"I sleep most of the day," Josephine shrugged. "They interpret that as partial catatonia." She gave him a once over -- from what she could see, the rest of him seemed just as nice as his face. "What's supposedly wrong with you?"

"Paranoid schizophrenia, with tendencies toward pyromania," Emmett answered, echoing what Dr. Adams had said earlier. Then, clearly influenced by the slight hold she had on him, he added, "Of course, the real reason that I'm in here is because Biff Tannen doesn't want me threatening his empire."

Josie frowned. _Sounds like he's in a similar situation to my own. Wonder what Biff found so dangerous about him, though, he seems pretty friendly. . . ._ "Sounds like what happened to me. My sister had me stuck in here because she's afraid of me. We've had a number of fights over the years." She leaned forward, getting more curious. "How old are you?"

"65," Emmett said. He was starting to smile now -- just a little, but it was preferable to that dull, unhappy expression she had seen before. "How old are you?"

"34," Josie replied. Most people did figure her to be in her mid-30s. She wondered how they'd react to finding out that she was roughly 1000 years old, give or take a few years due to calendar changes. "Have you always been here, or are you a transfer like me?"

"Been here since 1983," Emmett said. "Ever since Biff deemed me too much of a threat to his empire. Where were you before coming here?"

"Arthur's Clinic," Josie said. "They transferred me here after they couldn't 'cure' me. Supposedly this place is one of the best." She chuckled. "We'll see."

Emmett looked suspicious. "This hellhole is supposed to be one of the best? I'll believe that when I see it." He shifted position in his straitjacket.

Josie frowned. Why on earth was he strapped into one of those things inside his cell? It seemed unnecessarily cruel. "That must be very uncomfortable," she noted.

"I'm used to it." Emmett shook his head, smiling faintly again. "I must say, Miss Grey, you have an amazing gift with people. I don't think I've talked this much to anyone in years."

Josephine smiled seductively. "I've been told I have that effect on people," she said silkily, increasing the hypnotic hold on him. "You feel comfortable around me, don't you?" Emmett nodded, his eyes going slightly out of focus as the influence increased. "You can trust me with anything, you know. We're both in the same boat here. You can open up to me whenever you want."

The blank, guarded look came back. "That's all right, Miss Grey," Emmett said, coldly polite. "I wouldn't want to burden you with my emotional issues. I'm sure you have enough of your own." He turned away from her.

Josie winced. _Shit, went too fast. I can't help it, it's that cute face of his. . . . Well, I nearly got him smiling for a moment there. That's progress. _"Sorry," she said quietly. "But I meant what I said, every word. And I'm willing to wait for you. Share when you're ready, Emmett. I'll be here." She lay back down, smiling at the back of his head. _Damn, I wish I could run my fingers through that hair. . . . Oh well. I guess I can wait._ She sighed softly as she thought about those wonderful eyes of his again. _You're going to be mine, Dr. Emmett L. Brown. And I'm going to be yours. Just you wait and see._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Gypsy Robinson_

Monday, May 5th, 1986

Hill Valley

5:12 P.M.

Gypsy opened the door to her private office for her latest patient. "So we'll have another appointment on Wednesday, same time."

Marty McFly nodded, smiling at her. "Thanks a lot, Dr. Robinson. This really helped."

"I'm glad to hear it. With any luck, you and your best friend will be back to normal very soon." Marty nodded again and exited the office, going over to talk to a tallish man with his face hidden behind a magazine. Gypsy smiled after him. _What a nice boy. And what a horrible thing to happen to him. I can hardly believe that there could be anyone that despicable alive! _Glancing at the man behind the magazine, she added, _Or that someone could live with him for 17 years and not go insane. Dr. Brown, you are one tough cookie._

Marty left the lobby, having finished his brief conversation with his friend. Gypsy found herself growing curious about the man behind the magazine. Although she and Dr. Brown had lived in the same town for all their lives, Gypsy had only caught the occasional fleeting glimpse of him. Her parents had not approved of him in the least, and had done their best to keep Gypsy and her sister April away from him. It hadn't kept Gypsy from wondering about Hill Valley's resident "lunatic," though. It had just always seemed strange to her that she lived in a town that had its own designated crazy person. When she was younger, she had oftentimes tried to get closer to him, to see if he was really as bad as the rumors had claimed. But her mother had always been one step ahead. Gypsy rolled her eyes. Her mother could be quite overbearing sometimes. . . .

She knew about his reputation, of course -- anyone who lived in Hill Valley did. But she was inclined to believe that a lot of the rumors surrounding him were insecure exaggeration from people who just _had_ to feel superior to someone. Most of it just seemed so unbelievable. _Even when I was younger, I thought those were pretty out there. If he had been so unstable, we would have seen some of those rumors bear fruit by this point,_ she thought._ I mean, really? Death rays? Poisoned Halloween candy? Turning his pet dogs into mutated monsters? Ridiculous. I'm sure he can't be _that _bad -- even if I've never met him._

_Heck, I don't even know exactly what he looks like,_ she realized, surprised. _What with my TV being out, I haven't had much chance to see any clear pictures of Jack -- and I doubt Dr. Brown looks exactly like _him_ anyway. At least, I hope not._

Well, here was her chance to find out. Putting on her best smile, she called, "Dr. Brown? I'm ready to see you now."

The magazine lowered -- and Gypsy's breath caught in her throat. Looking at her was a shockingly handsome man. He had thick white hair that seemed to have a permanent case of static cling, just perfect for running your fingers through. . .a nice nose, a strong chin. . . . And his eyes, those big, wonderful eyes, the color of liquid chocolate. . . . _Oh, _wow_. How could Marty ever be afraid of such a face?_

_Wait, what!_

Gypsy blinked a few times, startled. What the hell was she thinking? Dr. Brown was her _patient_! She shouldn't be thinking of him in a romantic way! _But -- but those eyes --_

_NO, Gypsy. You have to be a professional about this. Besides, he's 65 -- you should be looking for someone closer to your own age._ She nodded at Dr. Brown. "Come on in and we'll get you set up."

Dr. Brown nodded back, giving her an obviously fake smile. He set down his magazine on the end table, taking a moment to neatly line it up with the other magazines. He looked back at Gypsy, as if wondering if this small delay was enough to make her call the appointment off. Seeing it wasn't, he gave a soft sigh, got up as slowly as possible, and headed toward her. Gypsy moved back as he entered the room and sat down stiffly on the couch. Gypsy took her regular seat. "You don't look too happy to be here," she noted.

"I'm not," Dr. Brown admitted, sighing. "I do understand why you called me here, Dr. Robinson, and I'm willing to work with you. But -- coming here -- it makes me feel like all those rumors about me were true."

Gypsy fought back the urge to at least pat his shoulder. _He looks so downtrodden. . . . Damn, I really wish there was less of a stigma on touching patients. I would have loved to have given Marty a hug when he was telling me about Jack._ "I understand. But coming to a psychiatrist doesn't automatically make you crazy, Dr. Brown. It just means that you have some problems dealing with your life as it currently is."

"That's certainly true at the moment," Dr. Brown grumbled. "I never thought -- I seriously thought he was gone. That he was finally bored with me." He snorted. "Shows how much intelligence I really possess, doesn't it?"

"If I'd had a brother like that, I'd want to believe that he was gone for good as well." _Awww, he looks so cute like that, I just want to give him a big hug -- PROFESSIONALISM, Gypsy!_ She picked up her note pad. "Speaking of your brother, I think your family might be a good place to start for you. I know you have a sister as well. What's she like?"

"Emily's a wonderful woman," Dr. Brown said with a smile. "She's always been ready and willing to help me out in any situation. Almost like a second mother, honestly." He chuckled. "It's funny -- when you divide my family up, you have the women, who are all sweetness and light for the most part, then you have the men, who are--"

He stopped, wincing like he was in pain. Gypsy again fought off the urge to touch him. "I take it your father was along the lines of Jack," she said softly, wincing a little herself. _Yeah. Definitely one tough cookie._

"He wasn't as bad as Jack," Dr. Brown said softly, looking at his feet. "But that's all the praise I'll give him. My father was an extreme paranoiac, who hated everyone and everything that went against his strict view of the world. Which included scientists -- and by extension, me. He wasn't as physically abusive to me as Jack was, but he was just as mentally abusive." He shivered, squeezing his eyes shut. "I think that's why I hate those rumors about me being insane so much. Because to me, being insane means being like _him_."

"I see. What else can you tell me about him?" Gypsy asked, starting to make notes.

They talked for about a hour, Dr. Brown gradually revealing more and more about his family life. Gypsy was stunned to discover what a dysfunctional unit the Browns were. _No wonder he keeps to himself so much! If I had a family like his, I'd keep to myself too! _"Well," she said as their time came to an end, "it honestly sounds to me like you might have some untreated Post Traumatic Stress Disorder yourself. At the very least, you have some major self-esteem issues. I'll schedule you in for Thursdays at four, is that okay?"

"That's fine," Dr. Brown said with a smile. "This -- this was actually quite pleasant. The only person I've ever really talked to about my family is Marty, and even he doesn't know all the details. It felt good to get it off my chest."

Gypsy smiled back. "Hey, that's what I'm getting paid for. I really do want to help you, Dr. Brown. You and Marty both."

"Thank you. That's more than I can say about Marty's previous psychiatrist--" He stopped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult a colleague in front of you."

"It's all right. I personally think she was the wrong one to handle this case, given her rather -- extreme -- biases." _Also her rather extreme bitchiness. Wish I could catch these two off the clock sometime so I could tell them exactly what I think of Miss Glenda Adams._

Dr. Brown gave a slight chuckle. "Anyway, thank you," he said, suddenly leaning forward and putting his hand on her wrist.

Gypsy froze. He was -- touching her. . . . His callused fingers felt surprisingly warm against her skin. Like -- like they belonged there.

Dr. Brown quickly realized his mistake and pulled back. "Sorry," he said, turning bright pink. "I know I shouldn't have done that. It's the situation; I'm not used to this."

"It's fine," Gypsy said, doing her best to smile. "Nothing to worry about, really." She got up and showed him to the door. "So, Thursdays at four?"

"I'll endeavor to appear here," Dr. Brown said with a slight smile. "Thank you again."

"Not a problem. Have a good day." She watched him leave, then closed the door and slumped against it. "Crap," she muttered, closing her eyes. "I'm not going to be able to treat him if I can't stop thinking about how cute he is!"

She quickly got on the phone and called some of her fellow psychiatrists. Unfortunately, most were booked solid with patients, and one simply wasn't willing to take him. Gypsy sighed as she hung up on the last call. The only other person she knew who would take Dr. Brown was Dr. Adams, and she _certainly_ wasn't sending him to her! _Looks like I'm stuck with him. Damn._

She sat with her hand on her chin, thinking hard. She had survived the first session with him without letting on about any feelings she may have had. And really, was it anything beyond thinking he was a little cute? She had thought patients cute before, and she hadn't had any trouble treating them. It was just a matter of pushing down her own feelings while in a professional setting. _Perhaps I can handle this after all. And the guy certainly needs someone's help. . . ._

Still, she couldn't get over the feel of his hand against her wrist. There had just been something about that touch. . . . Sighing again, Gypsy picked up the phone and dialed one last person. "Hello, Mom? Hi, it's Gypsy. I'm okay -- I just wanted to let you know that I've thought about it, and -- why not, I'll give the guy a shot. Can't be worse than anyone else I've dated." _And it should get my mind off a certain Dr. Emmett L. Brown._

The End


End file.
